Don't they know it's the end of the world?
by Jeanie205
Summary: Praimfaya is coming, but Clarke is determined to rescue Raven from the island before it arrives. And Bellamy isn't A twp letting her go alone. A two-part story that takes place right after episode 411. If I were writing the end of the season, this is how it would go.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Title is, of course, from the Skeeter Davis classic.**

Kane woke him out of a sound sleep to give him the news.

"Clarke says she's leaving," the chancellor told him. "I tried talking her out of it but you know Clarke. Better than anyone. She's...not listening. And," his sigh sounded defeated, "Abby's frantic."

Bellamy's heart had dropped into his stomach at Kane's first words. He dressed hastily, the fear coming in waves.

"Why the hell would she do that! After I made O promise that Clarke would have one of the Skaikru places?"

Kane sighed. "She said she doesn't deserve it, and besides..."

"Fuck that! If anyone deserves to live, it's Clarke! Who the hell does she think kept them alive all this time? Who risked her life to defeat ALIE?"

Bellamy's knew he sounded angry, but inside, it wasn't anger at all. He was nearly frozen with terror. "Dammit, Kane, we just barely managed to put down Jaha's rebellion. How the hell could she even think about leaving now? It would be especially dangerous outside now with everyone we had to force to leave this bunker."

Bellamy suddenly found he couldn't meet Kane's eye. Of all the unforgivable things he'd had to do since reaching the ground - and god knew there'd been plenty. He had't lied to Riley when he'd called himself a murderer - forcing out his fellow Arkadians who hadn't been lucky in the lottery was by far the cruelest. Especially when he knew that he was the reason they were being tossed.

But he could never have just left Octavia to die. It would have been...unthinkable.

And he sure as hell wasn't letting Clarke die either.

"Where is she now? I'll...talk to her."

That prospect was nearly as daunting as the idea of Clarke leaving. They hadn't really talked in days. Not since he'd driven back to Arkadia and she'd gone on to the island with Roan and the fuel.

Not since she'd jolted him by telling him that he was special. _And what the hell had she meant by that, anyway?_

Not since he'd tried to tell her... _what exactly_? He'd never been sure what it was he'd intended to say at the moment, but in the end it hadn't mattered. She'd stopped him. Hadn't wanted to hear it.

Bellamy had thought he'd have more time. Time to figure it all out. Now that they were finally, _finally_ safe and he could have more than ten crisis-free minutes. But it looked like today was the day he going have to explain to her very carefully exactly how important she was to him.

"Where is she?" he bit out, all at once impatient, scared to death that she'd leave before he could get to her.

Kane nodded his understanding. "She's not leaving in the next five minutes, Bellamy, and...I really don't think this is any kind of...death wish."

"Well, then, why the hell...?"

"She's going after Raven."

"Raven? There's still a way to save Raven? I thought it was impossible. We're a long way from the island."

"Clarke intends to use the truck. She's got one of the engineers trying to figuring out how to seal the cab."

" _What?_ She thinks she can drive all the way to the island before the death wave comes? And back again?"

Bellamy could feel his agitation increasing. When it was only Clarke feeling unworthy, he'd thought he probably had a good chance of showing her how truly important she was, how deserving of salvation. That he could talk her out of leaving. But now that he knew she was on a mission to save someone as important to her a Raven, his confidence in his ability to stop her began to plummet.

"She can't open the damn door!" he declared forcefully, grasping at straws. "We're sealed up now, but if she opens the door..."

Buy Kane was already shaking his head. "She's found another entrance, Bellamy. With a fully sealable airlock. That's where the hazmat suits are."

Bellamy's eyes widened in surprise. "Hazmat suits?"

"Yes. The real deal. Not like the half-assed one you tried to duct tape together in Arkadia."

But instead of making him feel better, the prospect of a hazmat suit increased Bellamy's agitation exponentially. It gave credence to this insane mission. Not that he wouldn't give anything to save Raven, because of course he would. Or almost anything.

 _He wouldn't give Clarke's life._

"But what about when she gets back. _If_ she gets back." Even Bellamy could hear his own growing frustration. "The Skaikru spots are all taken. Even if everyone agreed to let Clarke back in, how does that help Raven? The grounders are never going to agree to make an exception for an extra Skaikru."

It was when Kane shifted his head, suddenly not meeting his eye, that Bellamy finally got it.

"She's going to try to substitute Raven for herself, isn't she?"

Kane's answer was the tiniest of shrugs.

"Over my dead body."

There was no heat in his reply, no anger, no emotion of any kind. Just a promise. And as soon as Bellamy said it, he knew it was more true on this day than on any of the other danger-filled days that he'd spent on this fucking planet.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was only by sheer luck that Bellamy found Clarke in her newly-assigned - and if he couldn't convince her otherwise, shortly-to-be-forfeited - quarters. She was hurriedly filling a pack with what looked like the most easily-scavenged supplies she could find, apparently having solved her engineering problem in sealing the truck's cab.

"Clarke!"

Her back was to him, but he saw her shoulders go rigid. When she finally turned to face him, her arms were wrapped around her middle in a stance that had become increasingly familiar to him over the past couple of weeks. Clarke gave him a small smile, although her expression was wary.

"Bellamy."

Her voice was low, just like always, but perhaps a little huskier than normal. Or maybe that was just his ears playing tricks on him.

"Are you settling in okay?" she asked, when he continued to be silent.

Bellamy nodded, but he wasn't wasting time on pleasantries.

"Yes, but apparently you're not, since you seem so intent on leaving."

She gave a small, involuntary gasp of surprise.

"What, you didn't think Kane would tell me?" His voice was urgent as he moved more fully into the room to confront her. "Did you think you could just slip away and no one would notice? That _I_ wouldn't notice."

"Bellamy..."

"Dammit, Clarke! How could you do this after all we've been through? After everything we've had to...endure."

Bellamy wanted so much to reach out and touch her, to gather her into his arms. He needed that physical contact desperately. But everything about her posture said _touch me not_ , so for the moment he contented himself with locking eyes with her.

"But that's just it," she said quietly. "After everything I've done, do you really think that I'm one of the deserving ones? One of the ones worthy enough to start a...a new humanity?"

By now her eyes were glassy, and Bellamy felt his heart ripping open. Clarke almost never cried, and when she did...

"Clarke," he said again. Softly this time, gently. Giving in finally to his need to touch her by grabbing lightly on both her arms as they lay still wrapped around her body. "You are the most deserving of all. None of us would have made it this far without you."

Clarke broke eye contact then, shaking her head in disagreement...but she didn't move away, or try to pull his hands from her arms. Bellamy took that as an encouraging sign.

"You can't just expect me to let you do this," he said. "I can't. I...won't. I'll find a way to stop you if I have to"

Clarke looked up at that, surprised, but finally just shook her head.

"Think of it as taking a well-earned break from keeping me alive," she said, giving him a watery little smile.

It felt like a punch to the gut. Didn't she know? _How could she not know?_

And suddenly he knew exactly what he needed to say to her, exactly how he wanted to end that conversation they'd started days ago on the beach.

"You know, I've spent my whole life taking care of Octavia, worrying about her, trying like hell to make sure she had everything she needed. Keeping her safe."

Clarke nodded understandingly. "I know what she means to you. How far you'd go for her."

He watched her eyes fill with sadness and wondered if it had really only been yesterday. The gun pointing at him, Clarke's hand shaking. Her eyes had been filled with tears, just as they were right now.

"I'm sorry I put you through that." He couldn't stand to see her in such pain.

"No, no, no! You were right. I never should have believed Jaha. I can't imagine how... disappointed you must be in me."

Shit! He hadn't come here to remind her of the one time she'd been wrong, but of all the times she'd been right.

Bellamy shook his head, squeezing her arms just a little more tightly. "That's not why I mentioned Octavia, Clarke. I just...I wanted you to understand how it was for us. For me. She was always in my care."

He watched her nod again, and hurried on before she could interrupt him.

"But now she's grown up, been through hell and learned to live with it. Earned the respect of a lot of people. Found a place for herself. A purpose. I'm so proud of her."

"I'm so glad," Clarke said, her smile becoming more like the real thing. "I'm proud of her, too."

Bellamy's heart lightened just to see that smile. "So, the thing is, while I'll always love my sister very much, worrying about her doesn't have to be my...top priority any longer. I know she can take care of herself."

He cleared his throat, and his confident smile wavered just a bit.

"So if you don't mind, I'm going to shift my priorities a bit. And I'm going to continue keeping you alive for just a little while longer."

Clarke's eyes widened in surprise, but then her mouth firmed and she shook her head even more decidedly. "Bellamy, I know your...your heart is in the right place, but you can't talk me out of this. I'm not leaving just because I think that...maybe I don't deserve to be here. I'm going to get Raven. She's still alive and I'm damned if I'll just let her die after everything she's done for the rest of us."

"Yeah, Kane mentioned that, too," he said. The next words tumbled out of his mouth without thought, but Bellamy knew immediately that it was the only possible solution.

"That's why I'm coming with you."

Clarke was aghast. "You can't! I want you to live, Bellamy. Not die trying to keep me safe."

"Same here," he said. "But I'm still coming, because I'm pretty sure I won't be much good for anything if I have to watch you walk out of this place without me."

Bellamy dropped his hands from her arms, reached around her and grabbed her pack.

"Just a little insurance so you won't try to skip out on me," he said with a nod, while Clarke looked dumbfounded. "I just need to let Kane know and...say goodbye to Octavia. Then I'll be right back."

Clarke continued to stand there silently, as thought she couldn't quite believe the sudden turn of events.

"So should I come back here or do you want to tell me how to get to the airlock where the hazmat suits are?" he asked, still clutching her half-filled pack.

"Come back here," she said finally, her voice at first faint with disbelief. "And, Bellamy," she added, suddenly sounding more like her bossy self, "no more than a half hour. Don't make me wait for you."

Bellamy left the room with both the backpack and a growing smile. Never had he been so happy to see Clarke Griffin in full-on Princess Mode.

XXXXXXXXXX

He ran back to his quarters, giving himself no more than 60 seconds to throw a few personal items into the pack, before moving on to the guard room to grab a rifle. Miller was there, having earned his place in the bunker by the luck of the draw. They hadn't seen each other since Miller had been forced to shock lash him when Jaha had assumed control of the place.

"Uh, Bellamy," he said, a little warily. "About yesterday..."

"Skip it, Miller, no time. You were just doing your job. Right now I need a rifle. Clarke and I are taking off to get Raven."

He saw the surprise on Miller's face and then the smirk.

"Damn! Raven is still hanging in. That's one gutsy lady. And I suppose this rescue job was Clarke's idea?"

Bellamy shrugged and Miller's smirk became a chuckle,

"If it was anyone else I'd be wondering how you could practically be killing each other one day and taking off on a mission together the next. But not with you two."

"We weren't trying to kill each other, Miller. We were just having a...difference of opinion."

"Oh, yeah? Is that what you call it?" His chuckled deepened.

"The rifle," Bellamy barked, unwilling to try to explain to Miller what he barely understood himself.

Miller handed the weapon to Bellamy, along with a box of ammo. "Hey, don't get killed," he said, his snark tinged with sincerity. "Either of you."

"Yeah, yeah, that would be my preference," Bellamy agreed, grabbing the rifle and moving out the door and down the hall to Kane's office.

The chancellor eyed the rifle and nodded his immediate understanding. "You're going with her."

Bellamy shrugged. "I figured if I couldn't talk her out of it, this was the only way. Tell Abby..." Bellamy paused, wanting to send Abby a hopeful but still honest message. "Tell Abby that Clarke's safety will be my top priority,"

"I'm pretty sure she already knows that, Bellamy. Especially now that you don't have to be as concerned about Octavia."

Kane's smile was wry.

"Have you told Octavia you're leaving? She was pretty adamant about you getting a place here in the bunker."

Bellamy shook his head. "Heading there next."

Kane eyed him kindly, clapping him on the shoulder. "Your sister will be fine, Bellamy. You just concentrate on keeping Clarke and yourself alive. And if you can actually manage to rescue Raven...so much the better."

Bellamy nodded. "We'll be in touch the whole time," he promised, holding up his walkie-talkie.

Kane sighed. "I hate to think what kind of shape Abby will be in if you aren't," were his parting words as Bellamy headed out the door.

He was sprinting now, knowing there wasn't much time left to see Octavia and still make it back to Clarke in the allotted thirty minutes. When she wasn't in her own room, he expected to find his sister with Indra, and he was not disappointed.

For most of the nine months they'd been on the ground, Bellamy's relationship with the grounders had been decidedly antagonistic. Except, of course, for Lincoln. But while Lincoln had been his only friend among the grounders, the Trikru leader Indra had eventually earned his grudging respect. She had taken Octavia under her wing, teaching his sister many of the skills that she needed to survive on the ground, skills that Bellamy himself did not possess. He knew that Indra loved Octavia, and that knowledge became a link between Indra and himself.

The Trikru had chosen their own survivors, and Bellamy had been gratified that Indra was among the first. Especially now that he was leaving. He hadn't lied when he'd told Clarke that Octavia could take of herself. But he was still happier knowing that Indra was around. Just in case.

Octavia smiled when he appeared in the doorway, but her eyes widened questioningly when she saw the rifle on his back. But Indra seemed to get it immediately.

"There is some reason you need to leave us, Bellamy," she said directly.

Bellamy huffed, and wondered why he would ever be surprised by Indra's shrewdness.

"What? No. He's not going anywhere. Right, Bell?" Octavia's spoke with confidence, but as she studied his face, he could see the certainty begin to dim.

"O...I'm sorry. Clarke is determined to try to rescue Raven and...I have to go with her. That's all I can tell you. I have to go with her. We have some hazmat suits, so...it'll be fine."

He hoped to god Octavia would understand without him having to spell it out. He doubted he could if he tried.

Octavia searched his face, then sighed, resigned, as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I do get it, Bell. I've always understood about you and Clarke." Her words were muffled in his jacket. "It's just...I worked so hard to save you."

Bellamy squeezed her tight. "You did good, O. Look around at everyone who's going to live because of you. I couldn't be more proud of you."

Octavia's breath hitched suddenly. "Listen. Bell. I...I know I said some harsh things to you. I just...I didn't mean them. I was hurting so bad and...I didn't mean them."

Bellamy pulled back and smiled at her softly. "I know that, Octavia. You don't have to explain."

She nodded. "Good. I...I love you, big brother. You'll always fit in with me." Bellamy's heart swelled when he heard her echo his own words. Words from happier times. From what seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Yeah, me, too," he said, pulling her in for a final hug.

"Take care of yourself while you're out there. Don't do anything stupid. And...take care of Clarke, too. Because I know exactly how much you'll hurt if anything happens to her."

"O..."

"And tell her, Bell. Before it's too late. Tell her how you feel."

XXXXXXXXXX

When he returned, Clarke was sitting on her bed, foot tapping impatiently, a small pile of additional supplies gathered around her.

"Do you need to see Abby before we leave?" he wondered aloud, sitting next to her and beginning to stow away the supplies into the pack.

Clarke shook her head. "Did that before you came the first time," she sighed. "If I hadn't, you'd never have found out until after I'd left," she added, like it was a bad thing. Like it was the thing she regretted the most.

Bellamy paused for just an instant, then resumed his packing.

"And how do you think I'd have felt when I heard you were gone?" he said, not looking at her. "At least when you left me the last time, you said goodbye. You didn't try to sneak off like a thief in the night."

"Bellamy, no, that wasn't it." She touched his arm hesitantly. "After yesterday...after what I did yesterday...I thought...you couldn't possibly want to keep looking out for me. I mean, I just didn't want you to feel..." she paused, swallowing convulsively, "obligated. Now that everyone is safe."

Bellamy squeezed the hand on his arm as he said quietly, "I don't blame you for yesterday, Clarke. I know you thought you were doing the right thing. And I'm...sorry it had to come to that."

He sighed.

"And you're wrong about something else, too. Everyone _isn't_ safe. Not if you're outside somewhere. Because you're the one whose safety is...important to me."

Bellamy heard the gruffness in his own voice and closed the pack with a snap. "I think we're ready. So show me where this airlock is."

Unsurprisingly, the multi-section airlock was located on the top floor of the bunker, and century-old hazmat suits were lined up against the wall of the innermost compartment. Bellamy prayed that they were still as viable as everything else in the bunker appeared to be.

"The truck is next door. We'll have some help getting through the airlock itself."

Before he could even ask who'd be helping them, Clarke had grabbed two of the suits, handing him one, and preparing to step into the other. She was facing away from him, and as he looked over at her, at the fall of her blonde curls and the sweep of her back and hips, Bellamy was unexpectedly overwhelmed with longing. And by the realization that he was about to be physically separated from Clarke, even though she'd be traveling right next to him.

Suddenly, it felt like his last chance.

"Clarke, wait!" he said impulsively, bridging the distance between them in two long strides. Before she could even react, he'd wrapped his arms around her waist so that her back was pressed against his chest.

He was barely squeezing her, but he would swear he heard the air whoosh out of her lungs, and she stilled immediately. Then she turned to face him, a question in her eyes.

"Bellamy?"

"We may never get out of these suits, Clarke. This may be my last chance to hold you," he said, unable to stop the words.

Their arms were around each other in an instant and while Clarke's lips turned up into a real smile, there were again tears in her eyes.

"Please don't cry," he said. "We'll get through this."

"No, Bellamy.," she said, laying her head against his shoulder. "You don't understand. These are...happy tears. I've missed you so much. It's seemed like lately you haven't wanted to...touch me at all."

Bellamy groaned, pulling her to him as tightly as he dared. Afraid to say anything. More terrified of remaining silent.

"No, Clarke. What's kept me away was knowing how much I _wanted_ to touch you. Afraid that once I started I wouldn't be able to _stop_ touching you."

She looked up at him, her smile perplexed. "Well, who ever said I'd have _wanted_ you to stop touching me?"

Bellamy laughed. "In that case, is there at least time for a kiss?"

Her hands had moved to his face before the words left his mouth, and then she was reaching up, pressing herself against him. Pressing her lips against his.

The kiss deepened almost immediately as they stood there in that bunker, wrapped in each others' arms, preparing to take on a new apocalypse.

Bellamy knew they had to leave. That Raven was waiting. That there was no time for...any of this. But he was dizzy with desire and, as he'd suspected might be the case, once he'd started he couldn't make himself stop kissing Clarke.

She pulled away finally, her breathing harsh, as her sense of duty and responsibility apparently came to the fore. But there was still a smile on her lips as she shook her head at him.

"You know, your timing really sucks," she said, as Bellamy tried to catch his breath. He nodded ruefully, agreeing.

With matching sighs, they resumed climbing into the bulky suits, the ones that would keep them alive as they tried to rescue their friend. They grabbed some extra oxygen tanks from the shelves and made their way to the door that led to the airlock itself.

"Hell, Clarke, I was beginning to think you'd changed your mind," Kyle Wick said, moving away from the spot where he'd been lounging against the truck. "But I see you've brought reinforcements."

"Wick," Bellamy nodded. Well, Kane _had_ said she'd asked for help from Engineering.

"Blake," Wick nodded in return. "I suppose I could say I'm surprised to see you, but it would be a lie. I'm just glad she's not going alone."

Wick opened the door to the cab, pointing out where he'd reinforced the interior, sealing it off as much as possible.

"Don't open the door unless you have to. The air toxicity is still relatively mild, and you've got the suits. But once the radiation gets inside, without some kind of air scrubber system, it would be impossible to get rid if it. And there just wasn't time to rig up something like that."

Bellamy nodded. "I understand. Thank you, Kyle. For whatever you were able to do."

Wick sighed. "I'd go myself if I thought I'd be any use. Just because Raven broke it off with me doesn't mean I ever stopped caring about her,"

Clarke gave him an awkward hug. "I'll tell her you said that."

Then it was time to don the helmets, Wick demonstrating how to make sure they were airtight.

"Good luck," he said. "If you run into any engineering problems along the way, just page me on the walkie."

They climbed into the truck, while Wick sealed himself in the control room, its glass wall giving him a view of the truck. From behind the wheel, Bellamy picked up the walkie. "Ready," he said, and heard Wick's answering, "Right."

The big doors opened and Bellamy drove out into the day, one with unnaturally bright light. When the bunker doors clanged shut behind them, he looked around, trying to orient himself so as no to waste too much time getting out of Polis.

The streets were deserted as he drove through them, and horror filled him as he imagined those who had not been allowed into the bunker huddled in fear in whatever "safe" space they'd been able to find.

Bellamy looked over at Clarke, wishing he could touch her skin, able only to scrape the tips of her glove-clad fingers with his own. He glanced up at her face, and her eyes smiled confidently back at him.

"It'll be fine," she said.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I got this."

 **A/N: Part Two will be posted tomorrow.**


	2. Chapter 2

It was nothing less than eerie, Clarke thought, as Bellamy drove down street after deserted street. Polis had never been a pretty place, not like the cities she'd seen in the old vids, with their magnificent architecture and their pristine parks. But it had been bustling and thriving, full of life. The grounders, mostly Trikru, had gone about their daily lives with gusto, as though the threat of war wasn't always on the horizon.

Even after ALIE had wreaked havoc on the grounder population, it seemed like they'd managed to recover at least some of their zest for life. Wares had begun to appear in the markets again, sellers feverishly hawking their goods. Even the Trikru taverns with their harsh wines had begun to fill up again.

But all that had been before they'd discovered that a second apocalypse was bearing relentlessly down on them. Those who were lucky had been saved, and most of the others, the unlucky remnants of a dying culture, had gone away to meet their fate in private.

So now Polis was a ghost town, dying in the light. Clarke thought idly about how much Lexa, who'd been so proud of her city, would have hated what it had become.

Clarke glanced over at Bellamy as he drove, his hands on the wheel competent and confident, and was filled with gratitude that he'd insisted on making this journey with her. After everything that had happened, after every wrong-headed thing that she'd done, she could hardly believe that he didn't hate her. That he wasn't even _angry_ with her.

But that hadn't been the morning's biggest surprise. Clarke shivered quietly, almost disbelieving that it had really happened. All that time that she'd been _so sure_ that Bellamy didn't want her in that way, in the same way that she'd wanted him, and then to have learned that he'd just been holding himself back.

Clarke closed her eyes, recalling the feeling that had swept over her when he'd suddenly embraced her, how her heart had begun to pound. She'd turned in his arms, and when he'd confessed that he thought it might be his last chance to hold her, to _touch_ her, she could hardly breathe. And then they were kissing, and it was fiercer and more passionate than anything she could ever have imagined.

 _Aarrgh!_ She tried to force her mind away from the feeling of his soft lips and his hard body, but it was hellishly difficult with Bellamy sitting right there next to her, sending warm smiles her way every few minutes.

Clarke tried to distract herself with directions, since she knew the streets of Polis better than he did.

"Take a right here, Bellamy," she said, and when the truck turned the corner, that's when she saw it.

Or...that's when she saw _her_.

"Stop the truck!" Clarke said impulsively, and when Bellamy brought the vehicle to a screeching halt, she asked him to back up to the corner.

"What is it?" he asked, concern in his voice.

"There!" She pointed to a figure huddled under an overhang.

Bellamy shook his head. "It's a terrible situation, Clarke, but I don't know what we can do for all these people."

"Yes, I know. But everyone else seems to be inside somewhere. Don't you wonder why that's the only person we've seen sheltering in the street that way?"

When he shrugged, Clarke knew hadn't recognized the huddled figure.

"It's Echo, Bellamy. The grounders consider what she did dishonorable, and Roan told her she was no longer Azgeda. So I'm pretty sure she's a pariah. That's why she's out here alone. We have to do what we can to help her. Even if it's just a little."

Bellamy turned away, but not before Clarke noted his look of antipathy. She knew everything he was going to say before it came out of his mouth.

"Dammit, Clarke! Echo is the last person I'd want to help. She nearly killed Octavia, and she held a knife to your throat more than once. And then she cheated at the conclave, even though it was their own fucking rules." His litany of Echo's sins was swift and harsh.

Clarke knew that she could just get out of the truck. But she was tired of taking unilateral action, especially when it was Bellamy who disagreed with her. Much better, she thought, to try to make him see her point of view.

"I cheated at the conclave, too, Bellamy..."

"It's not the same thing at all, Clarke, and you know it. You weren't hiding in a window shooting arrows into people like some goddamn sniper."

"No," she agreed, "but I was still breaking the rules because I thought I was doing the right thing for my people. And so was Echo. And besides," she said, summoning up the courage for complete honesty, no matter how it might expose her own feelings, "she saved your life when you were both in the mountain. _Your_ life. That's what's most important to me so that's what I'm going to choose to remember about her."

Bellamy's mouth opened, but he closed it again without uttering a word. Then he sighed, turning his head to gaze for a moment out the side window. "Okay," he said finally. "Let me get her," he added, when Clarke made to open her door. "It'll be faster."

Bellamy opened his own door, closing it swiftly behind him. The suit was bulky, inhibiting his freedom of movement, but he was agile and lithe, and he reached Echo quickly. Clarke recognized the look of fear when Echo saw the hazmat suit, no doubt terrifyingly reminiscent of the Mountain Men. And then the change in her expression the very instant she realized it was Bellamy.

Clarke had the door opened exactly one second before Bellamy arrived back at the truck, carrying Echo. He scooted in awkwardly, the Azgeda's long body making it difficult for him to close the door behind him. He was finally able to shift Echo across his lap until she rested in the small space available in the middle of the truck's bench seat.

Clarke could tell by her skin tone and labored breathing that Echo was already gravely ill. Which was not surprising, considering the grounders had far less natural immunity to the radiation than the Arkers. Echo's curiosity seemed to assert itself once she was in the truck, however, and she twisted her body around to see who it was that accompanied Bellamy Blake.

"Wanheda," she said, her voice thready and weak. "I might have known."

"What can we do to help you, Echo?" Clarke asked quietly, and she found herself pitying the proud Azgeda warrior who had come to this painful end.

"Water," she said immediately, and Clarke reached into the small storage space behind the seat, berating herself for being stupid. Of course it would be water that Echo needed. Even though the death wave had not yet reached them, their normal water supplies had already been severely compromised by the black rain.

The water appeared to revive Echo a bit, although it seemed to Clarke that she coughed most of it up.

"Why are you out here?" she asked them, but mostly, Clarke noticed, she'd addressed herself to Bellamy.

"There's somewhere we need to get to," he said. "In fact, we can't linger too long. But...we can take you somewhere else on our way. If that would...help."

But Echo shook her head. "One place is as good as another."

"How about some food?" Clarke asked, and Echo twisted in her direction. "We have a little we can spare."

"No, Wanheda. I could not eat."

Echo's gaze shifted back to Bellamy. "Are you going out of the city? Because if you are, you should stay away from the area around the heda's tower. There are gangs of roving warriors there, too sick and too stupid to understand that killing other people will not help them. They're probably too weak by now to attack this vehicle, but I barely got away from them last night."

Echo began to cough, her long speech depleting her energy and taxing her lungs.

But Bellamy nodded. "Thank you, Echo. We'll take another route."

"Let us at least give you a bottle of water to take with you, then," Clarke insisted, remembering at the last minute that she wasn't making unilateral decisions any longer. And that this was also Bellamy's water supply she was giving away. But when she hesitated for an instant, Bellamy caught her eye. Nodding. Agreeing. _Yes, give her the water._

Echo also hesitated, as if she'd suddenly remembered that she was a member of the Azgeda royal guard and these Skaikru were her enemy. But then she shrugged and wrapped her hand around the container, nodding her thanks.

"You must get to wherever it is you are going," she said, "and I must meet my own fate as well."

It might have been the few sips of water, or the human contact, or perhaps it was just simple pride. Because when Echo shifted on the seat to move across Bellamy's body and out the door, it was clear to Clarke that she intended to do so under her own steam.

Halfway across Bellamy, as she more or less straddled his suit-clad body, Echo stopped for a moment to touch the clear panel on the front of his helmet.

"I'm sorry we could never really trust each other, Bellamy," she said candidly. "I have always...admired you."

A noise issued from Echo then, and Clarke thought maybe she'd meant it as a laugh, but it sounded far more like a self-deprecating wheeze.

"The truth is that I admired you and liked you much too much, Bellamy kom Skaikru. You are the only man who has ever made me want to be something other than what I was. Other than... _who_ I was."

An intense fit of coughing interrupted her then and Echo had to fight for control.

"But it would never have made any difference, anyway, would it? Because your heart has always belonged to...someone else."

Echo turned to Clarke then, a sardonic little smile twisting against her sallow skin. "I believe you are misnamed, Clarke kom Skaikru. You are far too soft and weak to ever be Wanheda."

And with that, Echo was out the door and in a matter of seconds had disappeared down the street. Bellamy sat there as still as a stone, and then he began to mutter softly.

"Fuck," he said. "Fuck. I wanted to kill her more than once. _Tried_ to more than once. What the hell does that make me?"

Without conscious thought, Clarke removed the glove from her left hand, then reached across the seat to Bellamy, quickly peeling off his right glove. She squeezed their hands together, rubbing her palms across his in lazy circles. The comfort and relief from this most basic physical contact was so profound that Clarke sighed quietly.

Bellamy turned toward her then, and even through the helmet she could see that his eyes were glassy, and that tears had formed in the corners. Clarke felt a sudden intense burst of affection for this man, this bundle of contradictions, this gentle warrior who had lodged himself so deeply within her heart.

XXXXXXXXXX

Following Echo's advice, Bellamy changed direction, moving through the city in a more roundabout fashion. Several times, they found the way impassably cluttered with debris and Bellamy had to back the truck up and search for another route, further delaying them.

The streets seemed mostly deserted, and they assumed that most of the grounders had returned to their homes, but there was always the chance that some would decide that they'd rather go out like a warrior and seek a confrontation. Certainly a vehicle that could only belong to Skaikru would make a perfect target. But whether through their avoidance tactics or sheer luck, Bellamy and Clarke managed to reach the outskirts of Polis without further incident, although it did take them longer than they'd planned and they were now decidedly behind schedule.

Shortly after they'd cleared the city, Clarke had used the walkie to give Kane an update on their progress. That had been only a few minutes earlier, so Clarke was startled when she heard a distinct squawk from the walkie that was still sitting in her lap.

"Did you hear that?" she asked Bellamy.

"What?" His eyes were focused on the road.

"I thought I heard..."

 _"Come in, come in, is anyone out there? This is Monty Green..."_

Clarke grabbed up the walkie, disbelieving. "Monty, is that really you?"

"Clarke?"

"Yes! Where are you? Are you still in Arkadia?"

There was a long pause, and at first Clarke thought she'd lost contact, but then his voice came through again.

"There's...no one left in Arkadia, Clarke. They're all dead."

Bellamy grabbed the comm out of her hand.

"Monty? This is Bellamy. What about Jasper?"

"Jasper's gone, Bellamy."

Bellamy shoved the device back in her hands and she could see him trying to absorb this new blow. Clarke wasn't sure what to say to him. To either of them.

"I'm so sorry, Monty. Are you alone then?"

"Nope, I'm here, too," said a distinctly female voice.

Clarke felt tears spring to her eyes.

"Harper! Thank god! Are you both okay? Where the hell are you, anyway?"

Monty again. "Yeah, well that's just it. We aren't really sure. We're in the rover and we were headed for Polis but I think we must have gotten lost or something, so we stopped. Is that where you guys are answering from? Are you in Polis?"

 _Shit!_ Of course they'd been on their way to Polis. No one still left in Arkadia had any idea what had happened. About the conclave. Or the limited number of spaces in the bunker, all of them now reserved for other people. People who weren't Monty or Harper.

She turned to Bellamy, and saw that he had only one eye on the road, his head half-turned in her direction. And she knew they were both thinking the exact same thing.

She depressed the comm button on the walkie.

"We're not in Polis, Monty. We're on our way to the island to...help Raven. She's all alone there." She paused, looked to Bellamy for guidance, but his shrug was eloquent and his message clear. _Tell them whatever you think best._

Clarke made a split-second decision. She closed her eyes, praying it was the right one.

"Don't go to Polis, Monty. Meet us at the island instead."

"What? _Why?_ "

"There've been some...complications that you don't know about, and you...need to know."

Bellamy grabbed the walkie. "Turn on the GPS signal in the rover, Monty. We've got a locator and I'll be able to see where you are."

Clarke nodded. _Good idea._

Bellamy flipped on the mobile locator and pretty soon they could see the steady ping that indicated the rover's position. He'd slowed the truck to a near standstill, and it was clear to Clarke that he was doing some quick calculations in his head.

"I'm going to give you some coordinates, Monty. Plug them into the rover and we'll meet you there in a couple of hours."

There was silence from the rover and then Monty's voice came again. "You're sure about this, guys." It was half a statement and half a question.

Clarke took back the walkie and tried to compose herself. "We're sure, Monty. This is the best way."

XXXXXXXXXX

In the two hours it took for the truck and the rover to converge on the spot a few miles south of the island, Clarke wondered over and over if they were doing the right thing. She tried to tell herself that they had no other choice, but that particular credo had lost its comfort factor long ago.

All she really knew was that she just _couldn't_ have let them drive blindly into Polis to find nothing but deserted streets, dead bodies, and a locked door on the promised safe space.

At least she hadn't had to wonder long about Bellamy's opinion. "This is the only thing that makes sense," he'd offered, as soon as she was off the comm. "We'll figure out the rest later."

Clarke had been grateful that they were once again on the same page.

She'd offered to take a turn at the wheel, but Bellamy had shrugged and half-smiled, assuring her that driving was one of the few things about life on the ground that he truly enjoyed. So she settled back as comfortably as she could in the bulky suit and tried in vain to empty her mind of her worries. Clarke often wondered how other people achieved that blissful state because it never seemed to work for her.

She sighed heavily and Bellamy cocked his head in her direction.

"What now?" he asked.

"Just trying to not _worry_ so much about everything." Clarke could here the disgruntlement in her voice.

But she didn't expect the full-bodied laugh that emanated from Bellamy.

"Hey!" she said, only half-pretending to be offended.

"Sorry," he said, with equal pretense. "But a carefree Clarke wouldn't be...well, she wouldn't be _my_ Clarke."

And suddenly her heart felt considerably lighter.

They reached the rendezvous point before the others, and Clarke breathed a small sigh of relief when the rover finally pulled up next to them a few minutes later. She was surprised at how glad she was to see them, even though relations with both Monty and Harper had been more than a little strained since she'd had to leave them off that fucking _list_.

She wondered how they'd feel when they found there was a new list, and they hadn't made the cut on that one either.

Clarke was surprised to see that Monty and Harper were also wearing protective suits, and she wondered where they'd come from. At first she thought the suits had no helmets, which would have made them pretty useless, but then she saw them slip the helmets on before they exited the rover.

She loved to have hugged them both, but their protective gear made that impossible, so she contented herself with giving them her best smile.

"Where'd you get the suits, Monty?" Bellamy asked curiously after the round of greetings. "And why no helmets in the rover?"

"I made them out of stuff still left on the Ark. Sealed up the rover, too, so we don't need the helmets inside. I've got a meter in there, so I'm keeping track."

Monty wave his arm, indicating their suits. "You?"

Bellamy shrugged. "They were in the bunker so they're a little older than yours. The helmet's a pain in the ass, but the truck isn't that well sealed. Taking it off would be too dangerous."

Monty nodded. "Then why don't you leave the truck here and come the rest of the way with us. Plenty of room. I've even rigged up a small air scrubber, so the air inside the rover is in pretty good shape."

"No shit! Is there anything you _can't_ do?" he asked with a smile.

"Yeah," Monty said, smirking. "Everything _you_ can do."

When Bellamy laughed, Clarke could see how happy he was to see Monty again. And the truth was, the radiation levels in the truck had been rising, and she'd begun to wonder if the seals Wick had installed would last the day.

"I think we should go with them," she said suddenly. "I'd really like to take off this damned helmet."

"That would be great," Harper said. "Then Bellamy can drive and Monty can finally get some sleep."

While the others moved their small pile of supplies, including the extra oxygen tanks, into the rover, Clarke used the walkie to update Kane.

"We've picked up Monty and Harper," were the first words out of her mouth.

"What!" She could hear the elation in the chancellor's voice. And then the silence as realization hit him. "What did you tell them?"

"Nothing yet. We're only a few miles from the boat. Bellamy and I thought it would be easier if we explained it to all of them at once. And then we can try to figure out...something."

She heard Kane's sigh, and she knew exactly what he must be feeling. She was at a loss herself.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Sorry you have to deliver that kind of news to them. They all...mean a lot to me."

Clarke heard Kane clear his throat, and she had to work hard to swallow the lump in her own.

"I'll let Abby know you checked in," he said. "Call again when you get to the island. And, Clarke? Tell Monty and Harper that I'm...happy to hear they're okay."

"Will do," she said, turning off the walkie and climbing into the rover to begin the last leg of their journey.

XXXXXXXXXX

It had been a relief for them both to be able to remove their helmets, and to breathe circulating air again rather than oxygen from a tank. Despite the knowledge that they'd be delivering some bad news in short order, Clarke was happy to be with friends again, happy to have a few moments of light, meaningless conversation.

Although that conversation didn't last long. Monty and Harper must have both been exhausted because they fell asleep before the rover had been on the road ten minutes. Clarke smiled at Bellamy, happy to be able to do so without the barrier of the awkward helmet. Her heart gave a small leap at the beauty of his answering smile.

She longed for a moment when they could do more than just smile at each other.

The boat was exactly where Miller and Jackson had said they'd left it, and seemed to be in good working order. While Bellamy and Monty studied the controls and Harper slumped tiredly, Clarke grabbed her walkie and pressed a different button.

"We're here," she told Raven.

"i can't believe you actually made it. And what do you mean 'we'?"

"Well, um, Bellamy decided to come with me..."

 _"Hah!"_ Raven interrupted. "Big surprise."

"Yeah, well, and then we picked up Monty and Harper along way."

"No shit! I thought they'd decided to give up?"

"Changed their minds, I'm happy to say."

"Yeah, me, too."

When Clarke saw Bellamy approach, she signed off with Raven. "Everything okay?"

"I've...had an idea."

"Yeah?" Clarke prepared to listen carefully because Bellamy's ideas were usually good ones.

"Yeah. All day long I've been worrying about what would happen when we showed up back at the bunker with an extra person. And now...now we've got _three_ extra people."

Clarke nodded. As always, they were in sync. Since morning, It had been like weight on her chest that she'd been desperately trying to ignore. And then that weight had tripled. But she hadn't been able to think of a way out.

"It was Monty's air scrubber that gave me the idea. Plus, he's got a lot of other equipment in the rover, stuff I guess he thought might be useful. And that lab you were in. If there's really a rocket, then there must be at least some space deep underground, so..."

He took a deep breath.

"I think we should try and ride out the radiation wave here. I mean, if you don't want to, I'll... take you back right now, but the idea of leaving the others just..."

Bellamy turned aside and Clarke could see that he was fighting to control his emotions.

She wasn't sure she was capable of speech, so she just nodded. "Yes. Yes."

Monty was surprised when Bellamy told him they should unload the air scrubber and the rest of the equipment he'd salvaged from the Ark, as well as every scrap of food and water. But as always, he trusted Bellamy.

It didn't take the four of them long to load up the boat, and then they were moving across the water to the island. Clarke remembered her first view of the place, how shocked she'd been by the pristine condition of the mid-21st century house and the state-of-the-art equipment that filled the lab.

And now that Bellamy had reminded her, she did recall seeing markings that indicated at least a half-dozen underground levels in that lab. She sidled up to Bellamy, practically quivering with excitement. "I definitely saw signs for underground levels in the lab. I remember now."

He nodded, smiling behind his helmet.

Clarke could feel her heart racing. _Dammit! This might just work._

When the four of them alighted on the beach, they were shocked to be met by Raven, clad in what looked a whole lot more like a space suit than a hazmat suit.

Raven noted her surprise and shrugged. "I like repurposing," she said, 100% vintage Raven.

As she looked around at the five of them in their various hazmat getups - two black, fashioned out of scraps; two orange, more than a century old; one white, actually meant to be worn in space - Clarke suddenly felt a bubble of laughter burst out of her.

"What the hell? Clarke is laughing," Raven said, feigning shock.

"Well, look...look at us," Clarke's words came out in little puffs between her bouts of mirth. "Look...at...all...these...damn... _suits."_

And then she was off again, until finally they were all inspecting each other and the laughter became generalized. Clarke wasn't sure whether they were laughing with her or at her but it didn't really matter. It felt damn good to laugh.

It was when Raven saw the pile of gear that they'd unloaded from the boat that the laughter stopped and the questions began.

"We'll explain everything," Clarke said. "But first, is there anything in the house that's both useful and portable?"

Raven nodded.

"Good," Clarke said. "Let's get it all and bring it to the lab."

XXXXXXXXXX

In the end they'd hunkered down in the lab, creating a makeshift dinner from some of the last food stores in the house. It was a relief for Clarke to get out of the suit, and she was sure the others felt the same. So far, the air quality in the lab was still within acceptable limits, but she knew they'd need to move further underground almost immediately if they wanted to really be safe.

They'd been jubilant to discover a vacuum-sealed compartment in the house's basement that contained additional foodstuffs that had miraculously failed to deteriorate over the past century. Monty wondered aloud what kinds of preservatives mid-21st century science had been able to create to achieve such a result.

They moved it all to the lab, every box and crate.

After dinner, when Clarke opened her mouth to make her explanations, she found there was no need.

"We're not going anywhere, are we?" Raven said flatly, and neither Monty nor Harper looked surprised.

Clarke reluctantly shook her head and she and Bellamy launched into an explanation about the bunker, and the conclave. About Octavia and Roan. And...Luna.

"I think...she must have gone a little crazy at the end," Clarke said sadly, "after what I put her through right here."

"Well, whatever you did, it didn't seem to have affected her skill on the field," Bellamy reminded her. "Octavia only managed to defeat her by being clever. And by teaming up with Roan."

Bellamy squeezed Clarke's shoulder gently. "I know you feel guilty about Luna, Clarke, but her life didn't begin a couple of weeks ago in this lab. She was carrying a heavy load long before she ever heard of Skaikru. No matter what she said in the end."

"I can't believe they're both gone," Raven said. "They were here for days, and Roan was maybe...kind of a dick, but still. And...Luna," her voice softened. "She helped me so much when ALIE's code was fucking up my head."

There was a brief silence before Monty eyed Clarke and Bellamy, asking directly, "So does this mean you guys aren't going back either?"

Clarke shook her head. "No, I've already let them know that we'll get back when we can."

"And Abby's okay with that?" Raven asked. "Octavia?" she added turning to Bellamy.

He shrugged. "Octavia won't be happy, but she's safe and I think it's pretty clear that she can take care of herself."

"And mom has Kane, and I know that'll help."

"But you both _could_ go back," Monty wanted to be clear. "You have places."

"Yeah, we have places," Clarke said, eyeing Bellamy, "but no, we couldn't."

Bellamy nodded. "We've already agreed we're staying."

The silence stretched out then until Raven jumped up abruptly, nearly tipping herself over. "Well, then, let's get to bunkering."

Raven had never been to the lab's lower levels, all of which could be reached by the elevator. As far as she knew the only thing on the lowest level was the very bottom of the rocket. But as it turned out, Raven was mistaken. There wasn't a lot of space, but there were a few small rooms, three of which even contained cots.

While Monty debated exactly how to set up the air-scrubber, and Bellamy stored the supplies, the women inspected the potential quarters.

"Hmmm," Raven frowned. "We seem to be one bedroom short."

Harper grinned. "You know, I wouldn't be too sure about that," she said, eyeing Clarke closely.

Clarke felt her face heat up. "Uh, I'm not sure what you mean."

But Raven laughed. "I'd say it's damn well about time."

Clarke couldn't figure out what had given them away. It was, after all, only one kiss, and it had happened hours ago. As she worked with Harper to set up a makeshift med bay in a room scarcely bigger than a closet, Harper smiled apologetically.

"Sorry to spill the beans," she said. "But lately, all I've seen is one horrible thing after another. So I was really happy to think that maybe you and Bellamy finally, you know, got together..."

Harper's voice trailed off as she squinted thoughtfully at Clarke.

"You are together, right? I mean, the way he looks at you, I was so sure..."

"I don't know," Clarke said uncertainly, feeling more than a little foolish. "It was just one kiss."

Harper shook her head, laughing softly. "Clarke, you must be the only person in the universe who can manage to save the world over and over, but can't figure out if she wants to be with someone."

"It's...not a matter of not wanting...it's just...we've never had time to _talk_ about it."

Harper nodded sympathetically, then grinned when Bellamy suddenly appeared in the doorway. "No time like the present."

"How's the medbay setup coming?" he asked, nodding to Harper as she left the room.

"Fine," Clarke said, all ready to retreat back into those roles that were so easy and so comfortable. Friend. Partner. Co-leader.

If that was what he wanted.

But she'd been thinking about that kiss all day. In between the sadness, and the worry, and the life-and-death decisions, her mind had wandered back over and over again to those two minutes in the airlock anteroom.

And suddenly, she did want to know. She wanted to know desperately.

"Bellamy?"

"Yeah?"

"Um, there's a limited amount of space down here, and the thing is, it looks like we might have to share a bedroom."

He nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Unless...that's a problem for you."

There was a short silence before Bellamy said, "Is that a serious question?"

"I...I..."

"Clarke," he said softly, clasping her shoulders and smiling down at her, "you can _have_ the room. Don't worry about me. I can sleep anywhere."

"No!" she said quickly. "That's not it! I wasn't sure if _you_ wanted to...I mean, it was just this morning, and there was just that one...kiss..."

"You mean the kiss I haven't been able to get off my mind all day, even though people are dying all around us, and the world is about to come to an end? That kiss?"

Clarke could feel the smile blooming on her face. It seemed like they might be on the same page after all.

"So, where is this bedroom we're going to be sharing?" he asked softly, stroking his thumb across her cheek. "I'd like to check out the accommodations."

Clarke saw the challenge in his eyes and she'd never yet backed away from a challenge from Bellamy Blake.

"Right next door, as it happens," she said, taking his hand and pulling him out of the med bay and into a room not two feet away.

He closed the door behind them and said softly, "Did you want to ask me that question again, Clarke."

"We may have to share this room, Bell..."

But by then his lips were already on hers and she was pressed up against him so tightly she could hardly breathe. And she never wanted to be anywhere else.

"Is it bedtime yet?" she asked breathily, pulling him towards the narrow cot, still bare of sheets or blankets.

Bellamy groaned, dropping his head on her shoulder. "I never took you for a siren, Clarke Griffin. You already know we have a ton of things we need to do before we can even think about going to bed. Assuming everyone wants to wake up tomorrow."

"Hey, lovebirds!" Raven pounded on the door at just that moment. "Still too much to do. No time for nookie."

They both laughed when they heard Raven mutter darkly, "Shit! How the fuck long am I going to have to be stuck in this place with _two_ sets of lovebirds?"

"So, Raven," Bellamy said casually, as they emerged from the room, "did I tell you that Kyle Wick sends his regards?"

"That asshole," she snapped immediately.

"Yeah? Well, that asshole is the reason we made it here," Clarke smirked.

"Oh. Well, I never said he wasn't a _smart_ asshole," Raven conceded with a grin.

They all worked far into the night, setting up their bunker. The radiation wave was due sometime within the next twenty-four hours, but if everything worked right - the seal, the vents, the air-scrubbers - they'd only be aware of it from the telemetry that Raven had set up to let them know when the ground would be livable again.

By the time they'd done all they could, they were exhausted, and no siren's song could have persuaded any of them to indulge in anything other than sleep. Clarke tucked herself into Bellamy's side, grateful just to have him near.

XXXXXXXXXX

Clarke awoke to find Bellamy staring down at her, like he couldn't believe she was really there.

"Am I taking up too much space?" she asked, smiling.

"Never," he said, wrapping her in his arms.

Clarke shifted so that she could reach his mouth, kissing him softly. "Do you want to go back to sleep," she asked, twisting so that her body was flush against him.

"No," he groaned, running his hands beneath the back of her tattered shirt. "I've wanted this for so long, Clarke. But...if you want to wait..."

Clarke laughed. "You, know, Bellamy, when somebody wakes up and kisses you, that usually means they're interested in something other than sleep."

"Thank god," he said fervently, his hands skimming gently down her body. "We can take it slow."

"Maybe," Clarke said softly, shifting far enough away from him to remove her shirt and bra.

Bellamy gazed down at her body in wonder, quickly removing his own shirt. And then their hands reached out to slowly stroke, hardly daring to believe that this was really happening.

But all those weeks and months of longing, the firmly-suppressed yearning to touch and be touched, proved to be too much. Desire built rapidly, and soon they were kissing wildly, twisting against each other as though they could never get close enough.

And then he was inside her, and she couldn't believe how wonderful it felt. How right. How...inevitable. While her body thrummed with desire, her heart ached in a way that was wholly new and unexpected. And for the first time ever, Clarke knew that she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

Much later, as they lay naked and spent in each others' arms, Clarke looked up to find Bellamy gazing at her thoughtfully.

"What?" she asked, smiling contentedly.

He smiled softly, reaching down to kiss the top of her head. "I was just thinking about the first time I ever saw you."

"In the drop ship," she said, nodding. "You were opening the door."

"Yeah," he smiled, remembering. "You were all bossy and so sure about everything."

Clarke laughed. "And so wrong about so many things," she said. "Including you."

She reached over and kissed him softly, just as she had done hours earlier when she'd first woken up. "And look where we are now."

Bellamy drew her against him tightly. "I don't want it to end," he said fiercely. "I want to be able to feel like I feel right this moment for a long, long time."

"I know," she said, shifting her body so she could gaze down at him. "And we will. What did you say to me right after we found out about this? 'After everything we've been through, we aren't gonna let a little radiation defeat us.'"

Bellamy nodded. "I remember."

"So don't worry," she said, reaching up to brush a curl off his forehead. "We got this."


End file.
